Firefights in the Night
by LinZE
Summary: A snapshot of some of the possible repercussions to certain staff members of the events at the end of book 5. Mainly involving MM and SS and in suggestion a little MMAD.


FIRE-FIGHTS IN THE NIGHT 

**Disclaimer** - aint mine.

**Summery** - A snapshot of some of the repercussions to certain staff members of the events at the end of book 5. Mainly involving MM and SS and by default a little MM/AD.

Minerva wanted nothing more than to sink into the stone floor when she heard the unmistakable swish of heavy fabric down the corridor. There was no one else who could make fabric billow like that, so it was not a hard deduction for even her sluggish mind to make that it was Severus closing quickly on her position. Her position, sitting in a rather undignified heap at the foot of a staircase, was one that she had been in for quite a while now. She tried once again, futilely, to push herself up but it just wasn't going to work. She collapsed back down again and waited for the inevitable sarcastic remarks to begin.

"Minerva! Are you all right?" Ok, so that wasn't quite what she had been expecting. Severus was standing there with Peeves floating just behind, seeming for once to be behaving himself. She shot him a scowl anyway.

"What?" He asked innocently. "You told me not to go tell the Headmaster." He was right; when she had opened her eyes to find herself lying in this unceremonious fashion with the poltergeist hovering just inside her field of vision asking if she wanted him to tell Dumbledore, she had told him in no uncertain terms that she didn't want him informing Albus of her untimely tumble.

"Unlikely as it does sound," Severus cut in. "He did seem genuinely concerned about your well being."

"So he went all the way down into your dungeon to seek you out to come and see me?" She asked incredulously, but didn't doubt that the spirit would indeed find that very amusing.

"You forget that there really aren't very many people left in the castle at the moment." A week and a half into the summer holidays this wasn't really a surprise, Albus was away at a meeting in the Ministry and though both Rose Sprout and Fillius Flitwick were still in residence, the sun was shinning so she wouldn't have been surprised if they were outside enjoying it. "Anyway, what exactly happened?" He asked, obviously not about to let the fact that she was still at the bottom of the steps slip. He did however sit down on the stone in front of her.

"I must have tripped. Stupid bloody hip." She muttered glancing around once again for her cane, which seemed to have disappeared.

"She did not." Peeves piped up. She shot him another stare.

"What did happen then?" Asked Severus quite calmly.

"She passed out. Right at the top she was, and then she fell." He finished with a derisive nod of his head. The Slytherin looked at her quizzically as if trying to read her face. She tried to fight the blush threatening to spread across her cheeks and looked away. If she were to be honest, she wasn't exactly sure what had happened. She remembered making her painfully slow way down the hallway above - everything seemed to be taking so much longer of late - then reaching the staircase and turning to come down. The next thing she knew, she was at the foot of the stairs and in not inconsiderable discomfort.

"Wouldn't surprise me." Severus said, turning her face back towards him. "You look like death warmed over."

"I do not!" She protested. "Not that you are in any position to comment." He always looked unhealthily white.

"You would, if you dropped that attempt at a glamour charm you've got going. I'm surprised I haven't noticed it before. Or that Albus hasn't in any case." She looked away and let the charm drop. For some reason she knew that there was little point wasting the energy and concentration to keep it there, when he obviously wasn't being fooled.

"For heavens sake woman." He breathed when she turned back around. "When in Merlin's name was the last time you actually got any sleep?" She didn't care to answer this question, so she went back to the old failsafe of throwing up the barriers and trying to get away as quickly as possible.

"I'm fine." She said trying once again to stand despite the protests of her entire left side and not just the hip anymore.

"And my name is Godric Gryffindor." She couldn't help but smile a little at this line. "At least let me make sure you haven't done any serious damage before you try to get up and about?" He ordered more than asked and continued to mutter about 'ridiculous Gryffindor pride and courage' as he cast a diagnostic spell with surprising grace. She thought about sending a sharp retort his way but realistically, she knew that her tongue was about as sharp as treacle at the moment. She sat in silence while he worked and waited unusually patiently for him to finish.

"Apart from the fact that you're quite obviously so exhausted that you're dead on your feet, with what I'm assuming was already existing ligament and muscle damage at your left hip…" She nodded a little at this. "And what I'm sure is going to be some horrific bruising down your side, you seem to be in one piece."

"Hooray." She managed, though not particularly enthused. He only smirked a little and stood up without even needing to put his hands on the ground. Even watching him made her feel old. He held out a hand to her and with his help she managed to get upright. It didn't last long however, though as the world spun dramatically before fading quickly to black. She couldn't have been out for more than a few seconds but when she came to, Snape, who had obviously prevented her return to the floor, was holding her in a tango style dip.

"That is it. You are going to your quarters and are going to sleep." She was incomprehensibly grateful that he hadn't suggested the hospital wing, which was what she had been expecting. That was really one of the last places on earth she wanted to be.

"You know," Severus said, almost absentmindedly as he swept her into his arms. "You weigh a lot less than you look like you do."

"It's the robes." She replied, her head leaning comfortably against his shoulder and her eyes drifting shut. "They bulk me out. Always have. Any case, I probably weigh more than you do."

"Shut up woman. Sometimes you talk the biggest load of rubbish." She felt she ought to be offended by this but couldn't seem to muster the energy. She was vaguely aware of what was going on around her over the next few minutes, but had to be prompted to give the password to her rooms.

"I'm surprised you don't already know."

"I have to admit that you're better at keeping yours a secret than most of the others." This was said with a smirk that she knew out of experience to be playful.

"_Fáilte Morangé_"

"Gaellic?" She nodded again. "What does it mean?"

"Welcome to tranquillity. Roughly." He chuckled at this.

"Most apt." She didn't respond at all to this as he walked purposefully through her sitting room and into the bedroom. She felt rather than saw him sitting her down on the edge of the bed, and though she was somewhat aware of the fact that her head was still resting on his shoulder and that someone was removing her outer robes, she failed to connect the activity with Severus. Had she, she would undoubtedly have protested at it, but as it stood she did not and let herself be 'manhandled', albeit gently, out of them.

"You've lost a serious amount of weight." She heard him say almost under his breath, no doubt not expecting a reply.

"Only a little." She argued half-heartedly though she knew it to be true.

"Well then you didn't have much spare to lose in the first place." He countered picking her up again and bodily moving her to the head of the bed where he set her down and pulled the covers up around her even though she was still half dressed. She was sure he was about to leave but he turned back and with a flick of his wand she felt her hair uncoil from its bun and fall down her back as she rolled onto her side and curled into a foetal position.

"Thank you." She murmured.

"My pleasure. Sleep well." And with that he exited and, shutting the door, blocked out all the light that had been present. She sighed softly and relaxed into her pillows more content than she had been in some time. Even though, she couldn't seem to fall off to sleep. This was ridiculous. She was tired - scratch that - she was so deadbeat that even thinking seemed to take more energy than she had at her disposal, but still nothing. The longer she lay there the harder it was to decipher if she even wanted to fall asleep. Every time that she closed her eyes she could see flashes of what had occurred, could see the images of what she had seen happen on the slopes of the school itself and what she imagined to have happened in the Ministry. And when she did eventually slip into sleep, the flashes became films; she was left to watch helpless, as the events occurred in which she could not seem to exert any influence. She tossed and turned for almost half an hour before the situation had escalated until she gave out altogether and dragged herself up and out of bed again.

Severus Snape closed the bedroom door behind him as softly as he could. There were not many people who would believe what they had seen had they witnessed the previous sequence of events. He cringed at what his own students would make of it. When Peeves had rushed through the wall of his study – not something he had a tendency to do on a regular basis for fear of the Bloody Barron - and told him that Minerva had been in an accident, he had been unsure whether to believe him or not. But in the scheme of things if he tried, he could usually tell when the mischievous poltergeist was up to well…mischief. There had been no sign of anything like that this time however and he was so unsettled by it that he had run most of the way back into the main entrance of the castle and only when he thought she might be able to hear him slowed to a more sedate pace. In any case he had found her there as defiant as ever. He had noticed her appearance at least a little before he had looked carefully, but had simply put her ashen pallor down to shock at what had quite obviously been an unpleasant experience with a rather tall flight of stairs. It wasn't until she had abandoned the illusion altogether that he realised just quite how appalling she really did look. There were dark charcoal circles beneath her eyes and the little colour that usually graced her cheeks had vanished entirely leaving her looking like death warmed over. But as he took her into his arms, somewhat reluctantly, he was shocked by the fact that she weighed little more than most of their students (and he had had cause to carry many to the infirmary over the years when they had failed to listen to his instructions). He had realised from the start that she had had a rough time of it of late. When Dumbledore had left she had been the one who had had to try everything she could to ensure that the students didn't suffer too much without getting herself fired. Then there had been the whole Hagrid affair, he had watched from the window in his quarters as she was hit and lay there until Vectra and Flitwick had gone to retrieve her. He would have gone himself, but that would have hardly helped his carefully cultivated persona. But they didn't seem to offer a reason as to why she would be so sleep-deprived that she would feel the need to use a charm to cover it up and that her body would simply stop functioning. He suspected that there was something else going on at the moment that would provide a better explanation. Despite what most people thought, he did know Minerva reasonably well and they had on occasion even managed to get on with each other. In any case he knew that she would not thank him for taking her to the infirmary which had been his first thought. So he had brought her up here and now he wandered, only a little self-consciously around her rooms. He had a strange feeling that it would be wise if he didn't leave quite yet. He walked around the edge of the room which was mostly encircled with bookshelves stuffed to bursting point on pretty much any subject you cared to mention. This was a woman with a passion for reading. He smiled as he came across possibly the only three dusty volumes in the room – _'Unfogging the Future'_,_ 'Devine Your Transfiguration – why on some days it just doesn't work'_ and _'Through the Mists – a guide to deciphering what the fates really meant to tell you'. _He suspected that the first was her own school textbook and the others had probably been gifts either given by someone who didn't know her at all or as a joke. Reading the spines he worked his way around to the bay window where he obviously stumbled upon the muggle fiction part of the collection. There was everything from Douglas Adams, Charles Dickens, Joseph Heller and George Orwell there and he had to admit that he was impressed. Sitting on the coffee table in front of two wing-backed chairs that faced out onto the grounds was a copy of one of his own favourites, 'The Lord of the Rings'. But beside it was another book written in what looked distinctly like Elivish runes. Sitting down he tried to decipher some of what it said and was soon lost in concentration.

It could have only been about half an hour later when he was drawn from his studies by the sound of a creaking door.

"Taken up cat-napping have you?" He asked from his seat, where he was fairly certain he could not be seen. It was only after he spoke that it dawned on him that giving her a fright probably wasn't exactly his best course of action. Turning, he saw her leaning heavily on both the door handle and the back of the sofa with a look of total shock on her face. Quickly he got up and went over to where she was rapidly trying to pull some façade of the woman he knew out of the wreckage.

"What are you doing here?" She asked, but did not bat away his proffered arm and offer of support.

"I could ask you the same question – I was under the impression that the reason I brought you back here was so that you could sleep." He pointed out, as he slowly guided her over to the bay window, where she gingerly sat herself down. She still didn't answer him as he went back over to a Kist he had noticed earlier and on intuition opened it. Finding what he was looking for, he returned and after draping the blanket over Minerva's knees, despite her protests, he sat back down. They sat in silence for a few minutes and Severus reaffirmed his belief that this was possibly one of the most difficult women on the face of the planet he was dealing with at present. It was obvious now, to anyone who looked, that she was exhausted beyond all comprehension. Though she had taken the time to loosely braid the long silk strands he had freed earlier, she had thrown on a rather Gryffindor dressing-gown rather than actually getting fully dressed again. Sitting there with it drawn closely about her shoulders and a blanket thrown across her knees she looked, well, she looked old. For the first time he could recall she looked older than her years. Sure that she wasn't about to start up a conversation any time soon he decided he had better take charge. Standing again he threw some of the green powder that stood in a little jar on the mantel into the flames.

"What are you doing?" She asked, looking up at him as he walked back over.

"Calling for room service." He replied drolly. "If you're up you're going to eat." She didn't look enthused by the idea but didn't protest it either, so he took that as a good sign. A few seconds later there was a gentle pop, and Dobby of all the infernal creatures appeared.

"What is it that Dobby can be doing for Madame Professor tod…" The house-elf trailed off at the sight of Snape.

"Could you bring us some soup and rolls?" He said quite calmly. The maniacal elf nodded vigorously, his ears bobbing up and down. He had learned to keep his mouth shut around the Potion Master for which Severus was eternally grateful – not that he ever would have actually hurt the little creature, but threats often did do wonders.

"And tea." Minerva added looking up. "Tea would be good." She continued quietly. He noticed with a little respect the concern that passed over the elf's face before he bowed down to the ground and retreated back to wherever it was that he had come from. He had thought that they would retreat back into their own worlds after this brief excursion, and they did for a few minutes. But much to his surprise, as he was looking out onto the blessedly peaceful grounds outside, she spoke.

"You know," she began, still staring out of the window even as he turned to look at her, "that the whole incident with Hagrid," He had noticed before that that was how she referred to it. "It was the first time I've ever been in a fire fight." She turned and looked at him and the intensity of her eyes was something that scared him. This fact was distinctly surprising to him but he tried not to let that show on his face. "Don't get me wrong, I've duelled but…." She trailed off. There was no need for her to tell him that it was different. "I've managed to live through the two worst wizarding wars in centuries, and I've never exactly been one to take the back seat but…I guess before, because of my animagus abilities, that I've always either been sent on reconnaissance missions, or search and rescue after the fact, and nobody tends to fire spells at cats. I've been petted by more dark wizards than I care to remember but none of them have ever drawn their wands on me." She stopped. Severus could see the glitter of tears that she refused to shed in her eyes. "I suppose I had developed a kind of immunity complex – I just always thought I could deal with it. Then I manage to get myself put out of action a whole ten seconds after having entered the fray. And everybody else is so convinced that I could have taken her and the rest of them out if they had played by the rules, and they're probably right – I could have. But people like that don't play by the rules do they? It's just not like that is it?" With this her tenuous grip on her emotions slipped through her fingers entirely and her whole body seemed wracked with sobs. In an instant he was out of his own chair and perched next to her. Wrapping his arms around her, he thought, not for the first time, of quite how much he wished he had taken a chance all those years ago an killed the Dark Lord when he had the chance. "I just…" She began trying to choke out the words. "I'm supposed to be there to help Albus... To look out for my students but…if I can't deal with Dolores Umbridge and her cronies… there's no chance of me managing…" He supposed that this was likely the source of Minerva's anguish. In all the years he had known her, even when he had been a student, she was strict but fair and she genuinely cared for all those she taught, no matter which house they came from and no matter how well she hid it from time to time.

He wished, in one regard, that she was being hysterical and illogical. That she was making assumptions that just weren't true, because then he would have had no qualms about telling her they were just that. But in true Minerva McGonagall fashion – she wasn't. Even when he didn't agree with her, the Head of Gryffindor had an irritating habit of constructing her arguments carefully so that they were at least logically sound. He held her close as she continued to try and muffle her crying and wracked his brain for something to say.

"I suppose," He began once she had settled a little. "The problem is more of how we have been expressing our outrage. The wording so to speak… Perhaps what we should be saying is that you coped with the intimidation of facing four adversaries far better than the vast majority of us could. That if you had been one on one with any of them then you would undoubtedly have been the victor. However, you certainly shouldn't have been expecting to be attacked like that, by that number of people and in that case, we should all just marvel at the fact that you came out of the experience alive." He knew his words weren't magic but he did hope that they might act as a balm to help heal the open wound that was invisible to the eye. They sat in silence till Dobby arrived back with a well-laden try. When the creature had delivered their food Severus called him near and asked in hushed tones for the elf to go and retrieve various viles from his study. He saw the way in which Minerva watched him as he sat back down in his own seat and started pouring tea but said nothing.

He watched as she made a valiant effort to eat at least something, but could see that neither her heart nor stomach was in it. When Dobby reappeared with various little bottles the relief he felt was something of a shock to him. Without feeling the need to explain himself he took her teacup and with the free-hand precision of an expert, poured a few measures of the different liquids into it before topping it up fron the pot.

"Every last drop." He instructed before handing it over.

"What's in it?" She asked sniffing cautiously at the contents.

"Some analgesic, a slight tranquilliser and a fair dose of dreamless sleep." He answered as he helped himself to more tea as well. Minerva simply nodded before starting to drink. He knew that what he was offering her only a temporary rest-bite; a chance to get some sleep if nothing else. But despite what he noted previously about her concerns being founded in logic, he suspected that everything would be much easier to deal with after she had gotten out of the horrific cycle of exhaustion she was obviously trapped in. Besides, when she woke up Albus would be back in the castle and Severus knew that this was something that the two of them would need to work out. No matter what anyone else said, he knew that only the Headmaster would be the able to put her fears to rest for good. In the meantime though he had every intention of ensuring that when he did return she was in a better state than she had been when he found her at the bottom of the stairs.

**A/N: **Hope you enjoyed this little one shot - please let me know in any case. xLx


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